


Spooky

by StudioFortyTwo



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Timepetalsprompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 07:28:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5120090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StudioFortyTwo/pseuds/StudioFortyTwo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor wakes up in a familiar, yet unexpected place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spooky

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tennantmeister](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tennantmeister/gifts).



> Inspired by the weekly drabble prompt of "Spooky" from the timepetalsprompts blog on tumblr. I asked [tennantmeister](http://archiveofourown.org/users/tennantmeister) for a bit of inspiration and she kinda ran away with it! So, a drabble it is not. But I do hope you enjoy it!

The fog of sleep slowly lifted, as his mind came online. The high pitched squeal of the kettle rang in his ears. His single heart beat out a steady rhythm and he reached up to rub at his eyes before opening them. Out the window he could see the rain still coming down, pulling a groan from him.  
  
The smell of bacon made his stomach growl and he sat up, swinging his legs over the side. Rose's voice could be heard singing a melody as she prepared breakfast. The Doctor stood next to the bed and stretched, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror.  
  
He stepped into the kitchen and smiled at the sight of blonde hair poking up above the fridge door. She found what she was looking for and shut the door to find him standing close in his boxers and vest.  
  
"Doctor, what are you doing?" She bowed her head in a vain attempt to hide her blush.  
  
"What?" He looked down, half expecting to be indecent.  
  
"Where are your clothes?" She had a hand over her face now.  
  
"These  _are_  my clothes. Same thing I sleep in every night." He waggled his eyebrows and grinned saucily at her. She didn't smack his arm though. Rose's eyes widened as she swallowed and turned to busy herself with making their teas.  
  
"Right, but I've never seen you in any less than three layers. That's all."  
  
He frowned at the back of her head and scratched at the back of his. "What do you mean? Half the time I go to bed nude."  
  
He'd been married to Rose for a full five years now, they were currently trying to start a family. Yet, she was talking like it was almost a decade ago. Back when he still had two hearts and wore the same suit everyday. Before he'd said those three words and and started sharing her bed nightly. A time when they'd flirted endlessly, but never anything more.  
  
"It's not that I don't like it, just a shock that's all." Rose carried their cups to the already set table, carefully not looking at him as she moved.  
  
The entire breakfast was awkward at best, and infuriating at worst. He looked around the kitchen and noticed it was no longer their simple flat. He was sitting in the TARDIS galley.   
  
He stood up quickly, his chair clattering to the floor. Rose's head shot up to look at him, but he raced to the doorway and stuck his head out into the coral hallway.  
  
"We're back on the TARDIS! Rose, we're in the prime universe!" He ran back to her and knelt down in front of her. "We'll figure this out, I'll figure it out. We'll get back home."  
  
Emotions flew across her face and his heart sank. She might not want to go home. Rose might want to stay with the other him. Where was He anyway? Was this his fault?  
  
"Doctor, we  _are_  home." He swallowed a lump. "We're on the TARDIS. Are you feeling okay? Maybe you did catch that bug on Slyrvik after all."  
  
He frowned at her, his mind racing to understand what was happening - had apparently already happened. Somehow, they'd been transported to the other universe and into the TARDIS. Rose seemed to have some memory loss, likely caused by the transport. But none if it made sense. It wasn't possible!  
  
Rose was still talking but, as she was trying to convince him to head to the infirmary for a check up, he was ignoring her and trying to run scenarios in his mind. He cursed his puny human mind that couldn't grasp the theories he was trying desperately to remember.  
  
"Rose, listen carefully." She stopped talking mid word and stared at him, worry still creasing her brow. "I'm not who you think I am."  
  
"You're not the Doctor?" She stood and backed away from him.  
  
"I am, I promise I am. Just not the Doctor you think I am." The worry was back. "You seem to have some memory loss from whatever brought us back here."  
  
Rose's eyes softened and she moved closer again. "Would you please come to the infirmary, just to double check?"  
  
He sighed and nodded, maybe once she saw he wasn't actually sick, she'd listen. He followed her through the halls of his ship, and ran his fingers along her walls. He had missed his TARDIS dearly. Her hum wasn’t completely absent from his mind, but it was muted. For the first time in a long time he was frustrated by the changes in his anatomy. Anatomy!  
  
The Doctor reached out and grabbed at Rose’s hand, turning her abruptly to face him and pulling her hand up to his chest. “I’ve only got one heart!”  
  
He could feel his heart beating wildly in his chest. Surely Rose could feel it pounding beneath her hand, the thin cotton of the Doctor's vest being the only barrier between her palm and his skin.   
  
His eyes searched hers and he whispered, “See, just one single human heart, Rose.”   
  
The Doctor lifted her fingers up toward his mouth, intending to place a gentle kiss on them, but she jerked her hand away. Rose was now blushing so hard that he could see the shells of her ears turning bright red.   
  
“Still two,” she choked out. “Please come to the infirmary, Doctor.”  
  
  
As he sat on the exam table and waited for the TARDIS to do a full scan on him, he told Rose about their life together.  
  
"And we spend Saturday's with Tony, but he's growing up so quick. That's why we've decided to try for our own. I just recently determined it was possible, and safe for you." She was looking more uncomfortable by the second, so he finally just let out a frustrated sigh and shut up. This only seemed to worry her more.  
  
"See? Scan is clean. I told you, Rose, just one-," but his words froze in his throat at the double beats flashing across the TARDIS MediScan’s screen. “BLOODY HELL, WHAT THE FU-”  
  
“Doctor!” Rose interrupted, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Watch your language. What’s gotten into you?”  
  
The Doctor hopped off the table, shaking his head and refusing to say yet again that he’s not the same man. Instead he reached out a hand to her silently. Rose took it, with barely any hesitation, and let him lead her to the library.  
  
After settling in on the couch he tried again. "We spent last night talking about all the changes we'd need to make with a little one."  
  
Rose fiddled with her hair and chewed at her lip. "Maybe we should just watch some telly, yeah?"  
  
He wanted to scream. No, he didn't want to watch telly, he wanted to get home! The Doctor wanted his wife to remember their wedding - that's it! Maybe if he told her about their wedding, she'd remember.   
  
"Why don't I tell you all about the day I finally made you mine in every sense. It was a small affair, or as small as it could be with your mother planning along with you. It was gorgeous though, just like you. When I first saw you, standing at the other end of the rolled out walkway in the sand, I stopped breathing. I don't think it started up again until you slid your hand into mine."  
  
As he said this, he slid his hand into hers and felt her shiver in response. She was staring at their hands, not daring to make eye contact with him. He remembered moments like this as if they were yesterday. But they weren't. They were years ago.  
  
What an idiot he'd been, wasting all that time holding back. When he could have been snogging those full lips at every opportunity. He could have lavished her body with attention and shown her the love she deserved.   
  
He shook his head of that train of thought. There'd be none of that until her memory was in tact. He squirmed a bit hoping that wouldn't take too long. His human body was randy, and used to getting release rather regularly.  
  
The TARDIS turned on a movie and Rose took the opportunity to distance herself. It made sense that if she thought he was only acting this way and saying these things because he’d been affected by some alien influence that she would not want to take advantage. He rolled his eyes. She could never take advantage of him. He was hers to do with as she pleased. Now, to convince her of this.  
  
Taking advantage of her distraction, he tried to think of ways he could help her regain her memories. Blushing, he tamped down his first thoughts of muscle memory. The idea of showing her just what sort of things they get up to in  _their_  bed nearly every night was not a good place to start. He needed something more subtle, a way to prove what they were to each other now. Something he could say or show her that was different from before.  
  
Rose giggled at something on the screen as he scanned his brain for anything that might work.   
  
“You have a tiny speck of a mole on the inside of your upper thigh. It’s my favorite of your freckles. Can’t help but-” He stopped himself, not wanting to make her more uncomfortable than he already had.  
  
Rose’s head slowly turned toward him and by the bright glow tinting her cheeks, he knew it was too late. Okay, maybe talking about something that private wasn’t the best course of action either. Her eyes were wide, her mouth dropped open as she stared at him.  
  
“How- Why- I don’t think I even want to know how you know about that.” She stood up and walked toward the door.  
  
“Rose, wait! Don't leave! I’m sorry, I was just trying to pro-” She turned back to face him, smiling fondly at him.  
  
“I’m just going to the loo.”  
  
“Oh.” The Doctor relaxed back into the couch and watched her leave the room.  
  
_Dancing_ , he thought,  _Brilliant!_  They had danced for hours at their wedding, swaying to the music and the Doctor swinging Rose around. His other self never fancied dancing, Rose had tried. Maybe if she was in his arms, some sweet music playing and the lights dimmed, hopefully she would remember something.  
  
By the time Rose had come back from the loo, the doctor had lowered the lights and turned on some romantic music. As soon as she entered the room he met her, offering his hand and leading her to the room's center. Her obvious nervousness was endearing and made him smile fondly at her. Being mindful of where she currently thinks their relationship stands, he chastely placed his hands on her waist after guiding hers to his shoulders.  
  
"We danced for hours at our wedding, of course we were outside on a beach but muscle memory won't know the difference." He whispered the words into her ear as he slowly swayed them back-and-forth to the gentle beat of the music. The shiver that swept through her put a knowing smile on his face.  
  
Rose was a bit stiff, unwilling or unable to relax in his arms. The Doctor slowly moved his hands across her back, pulling her chest against his. It was no use. After the third awkward song ended, he let out a deflated sigh and told her he was sorry.  
  
Several hours passed of what was easily the worst day in the history of every life the Doctor had ever lived and he still hadn't succeeded in helping Rose recover her lost memory or figure out how the hell he ended up here.   
  
He sat alone under the console, tinkering as he let his mind wander. Was Rose right? Was he sick? Had he gone mad? Did the metacrisis ever really happen? What about all those adventures with Donna and Martha, could all of that have just been a figment of his overactive time lord imagination?  
  
When it got late and Rose entered the console room to inform him she was going to bed, he jumped up and offered to walk her to her door. As they approach hand in hand, because she was at least comfortable with that familiar intimacy, he rubbed his thumb over her wrist.  
  
"I can't say goodnight without at least a hug." He opened his arms and she gingerly stepped into his embrace. He squeezed her tightly, telling her he'd much prefer a goodnight kiss. Rose just giggled nervously and stepped away into her room.  
  
The Doctor had stood there staring at her closed door for far too long, a numbness spreading over him. He retreated to his old room to spend the first night this body had ever spent without Rose Tyler. Feeling water fill his eyes, he squeezed them shut, allowing the hot tears to run down his temples, disappearing into his sideburns. The Doctor was at a loss, being forced to relive a part of his life that he'd been so glad to have moved on from, he began to silently sob himself to sleep.  
  
~  
  
The whistle of the kettle cut through the fog of sleep. He rubbed at his eyes before looking out the window to see that it was still raining.   
  
The Doctor shot up in bed. "No!" he shouted.   
  
He scrambled out from the sheet and blankets, catching sight of himself in the mirror at the same time he smelled bacon. A mantra of no, no, no, no played in his mind. He couldn't do this. He couldn't live this day again, couldn't handle this spooky sort of time looped life.  
  
The Doctor heard Rose’s singing and ran out of the room, holding the door’s frame as he swung around it down the hall to their kitchen.  
  
Coming to a stop inside the kitchen, he could see her messy morning hair just visible above the refrigerator door. As he crossed the kitchen she shut the door and looked up at him, a shocked expression settling over her features. The same look as the previous morning.  
  
"Doctor, what’s wrong?" Her words took a moment to register and he froze.  
  
Confusion rolled over him like a tidal wave and he barely managed to choke out, "What, did you say?"  
  
“What’s wrong, Doctor? You look like you're gonna be sick.”  
  
Her words bring with them a cleansing relief so fierce that his knees almost buckle.  
  
“Nothing.” And as Rose wraps her arms around his waist, laying her cheek against his bare chest, the Doctor’s trademark manic grin spreads across his face. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with me.”  
  
“Your heart is pounding,” she says, laced with a touch is skepticism, before placing a soft kiss over the center of his chest.   
  
“I heard you singing in here, I thought a heifer was birthing a calf. You really shouldn't sing like that, Rose. Just… don't.”   
  
He laughed and dodged a playful slap meant for his backside as he and his wife sat down to enjoy breakfast. The Doctor and Rose Tyler, together. As it should be. 


End file.
